


The Petal Painter

by Vulpesmellifera



Series: #MystradeStoryTime: Mystrade Tales Told in Tweets [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Greg is Gregorios, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Hellenistic Religion & Lore), M/M, Mycroft is the Lord of the Underworld, Mythology - Freeform, Retelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 12:26:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18343670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vulpesmellifera/pseuds/Vulpesmellifera
Summary: Written for #MystradeStoryTime.Gregorios is the beloved son of the Grain Goddess, safe and treasured inside her gardens. One day, he meets an alluring stranger dressed in black.





	The Petal Painter

**Author's Note:**

> A bunch of the Mystrade family on Twitter shares in #MystradeStoryTime: a stream-of-consciousness short story relayed in tweets, during the workweek when many of us could use a delightful treat in our day. 
> 
> I finally made my own contribution today, and some lovely people requested that I place it on AO3 so that they may smash the kudos button. How could I say no to that?
> 
> Here in its original tweeted format is "The Petal Painter." Enjoy!
> 
> And, come follow us Mystrade peeps on Twitter - we're a welcoming bunch! For a start, I'm @VMellifera. Hope to see you there!

 

I'd like to dedicate this installment of [~~#~~ **MystradeStoryTime**](https://twitter.com/hashtag/MystradeStoryTime?src=hash) to all Hugo Award Nominees.

This story chased my brain around this morning while driving into work.

Please enjoy "The Petal Painter," an AU inspired by the myth of Persephone.

 

The youngest child of the Grain Goddess was named Gregorios.

His hair was a riot of hickory-bark brown curls, his twinkling eyes the color of the fertile earth,

& his skin bronzed by the rays of the sun chariot. He was her greatest delight; her most precious treasure.

 

Gregorios spent his days in the company of his mother and her handmaidens:

nymphs who coaxed the grass to lengthen, massaged the unfurling of leaves, and

sang forth the flowering of buds. Gregorios spent his days laughing, playing games, and painting the petals of flowers.

 

The Grain Goddess forbade Gregorios from ever leaving her side, as her other children had.

“I would be terribly lonely, my little son, as you are the sunshine of my days.”

Gregorios loved his mother, but as children are wont to do, he was curious about the world and its wonders.

 

As he grew into a youth with broad shoulders and strong thighs, his mother sheltered him in her own grand gardens.

She didn’t accept visitors, and neither did she bring him with her when she would visit others,

for fear the other gods might find her son too desirable.

 

Gregorios enjoyed his time painting the petals of flowers, but he soon tired of the games with the nymphs,

lovely as they were, and he began to spend more and more time alone,

carrying his paintpot that would manifest whatever color he imagined.

 

While the Grain Goddess visited relatives and friends,

Gregorios wandered further into the woods in search of new flowers to adorn with color.

There, near the mouth of a stream, a shadowy figure appeared among the trees. It was a man’s silhouette, tall & imposing.

 

“Who’s there?” Gregorios had never felt fear in his life, sheltered as he was, but then, neither did he ever feel courage,

which now rose in him simultaneously. It gave him a steady voice while his heart jack-rabbited in his chest. “Show yourself.”

 

“I do not wish to scare you,” a smooth, silken voice responded. “I am simply shocked to see a youth such as yourself,

changing the very colors of the flowers. You must have the favor of the Grain Goddess.”

 

Gregorios puffed out his chest. “I do. Who are you?” “I have many names,” said the stranger.

“You may call me Mycroft, in honor of this place, where the stream begins.” Gregorios stepped closer.

The banks of the stream were dappled in sun, and the stranger remained in shadow.

 

“Come into the light, so I may better see you." The stranger stepped out from the trees.

His face was as pale as the moon, his hair near-ebony, though the sunlight picked up shades of russet.

His eyes were as blue as the sky, and his ink-colored robe touched the forest floor.

 

His rings were encrusted with gemstones, & when he caught Gregorios' eye upon them, he said, “do you like them?

My kingdom is rich with such lasting beauty.” Gregorios looked to the tiny violets growing by the stream.

 

“I have a deeper appreciation for that beauty which is fleeting, because though its time is limited,

it is all the more precious for it.” The stranger laughed, and Gregorios felt himself entranced by its mellifluous quality.

 

‘Mycroft’ spoke,”you are a wise young man, and I am truly delighted. I haven’t been so delighted in so long.

Will you walk with me?” And so it was that Gregorios & Mycroft became friends.

They met each day when Gregorios could slip away to the wood, and walked along the stream.

 

Mycroft had lived a long time, and was very knowledgeable. He liked to tell Gregorios about the world’s wonders,

and Gregorios liked to comment on them. His keen mind continued to delight Mycroft,

and the two of them grew stronger in their affection for one another.

 

Gregorios' thoughts strayed to Mycroft when they were parted. He liked the height of the man - who was likely a god,

& not a man - & he liked his voice. He liked the color of his eyes, & he liked Mycroft’s wit.

New feelings burbled in his chest, & stirred further below.

 

One night, he said to his mother, “I’m a grown man, now, am I not?” And she said,

“Yes, my love, though you are so very young and innocent.”

“What if I’d like to be less innocent?” She frowned at that.

“I want to see the world!” He said. “I want to know more than these gardens.”

 

She cupped his cheek with her hand. “Oh darling, the world is a dangerous place for one such as you.

I am doing what is best for you, to keep you safe.” He was quiet for moment. Then said, “what if I want to fall in love?”

The Grain Goddess startled. “Where did you hear of love?”

 

“The nymphs talk plenty, mother. I am not so ignorant.” Gregorios stood. “I want to leave here.”

The Grain Goddess stood to face him, thunderous with fury, and fear.

“Do not disobey me, Gregorios. You are my most valued child, & I’ll not see you harmed, or taken from my side.” 

 

 The next day Gregorios went to the stream, and found Mycroft waiting there. “What troubles you, Greg?”

Gregorios warmed at Mycroft’s presumption to be so familiar. “It’s my mother.

She has ever kept me at her side, and wishes me to never leave.”

 

Mycroft frowned. “Does she treat you well?” “She treats me like an object to possess!” Gregorios seethed.

“I wish to be away from her, but she’ll never let me leave.”

“Do you wish to leave?” Mycroft said softly. Gregorios met his gaze. “I wish to see your kingdom.”

 

 Mycroft’s visage bloomed with joy. “It would be my pleasure to show you.” Gregorios crept closer, leaning into the god’s warm body.

“And if I wanted other pleasures?” Gregorios asked and could feel a blush upon his face, but Mycroft made him feel brave in the asking.

 

Mycroft lowered his face to that of Gregorios. “You have only to ask, and I will give you whatever pleasure you desire.”

When their mouths sealed upon each other’s, heat enveloped Greg, & as Mycroft folded him into his arms,

Greg felt contentment like none other he’d experienced.

 

Greg asked Mycroft to take him to his kingdom, and at first, Mycroft asked Greg to tell his mother.

Greg refused on the account that he was a man of age to determine to his own destiny.

Mycroft very much wished to please the young man, so he called for his chariot.

 

When the earth opened before Greg’s eyes, he went rigid with shock. “I am lord of the underworld,” Mycroft assured him.

Greg trusted his beloved, so climbed up on the black chariot drawn by black horses, & allowed Mycroft to take him down into the darkness.

 

The world below the earth’s surface was full of sights. The tunnel walls glittered with precious stones.

A bony ferryman rowed them across a river of souls.

A three-headed dog bowed all three heads as its master passed.

 

The land of the dead was nothing like the gardens he grew up in, and those who existed there were nothing like the nymphs.

Greg was fascinated, though also somewhat saddened by their plight.

 

Mycroft showed him the levels of Tartarus & Erebus, the fields of Asphodel & Elysium.

He sat Greg upon a throne beside his own, and asked him to wed.

Greg agreed with kisses, and that night they came together as lovers of the flesh.

 

In the days to follow, though it was a land without flowers and sunshine, Greg managed to make the place brighter.

Greg’s beauty, his youth, and most of all his kindness was a balm on the hearts of the dead.

And no one loved him more than the feared Lord of the Underworld.

 

Troubling news came, though, when the new dead arriving spoke of great famine in the world.

Greg knew at once that the famine lay with the Grain Goddess, who could cause crops to fail or flourish.

He asked Mycroft to convene a meeting with her, to appeal to her better nature.

 

Mycroft was horrified to learn that he had unerringly stolen the child of the Grain Goddess,

even if that child was now a man. He sent a message to the King of the Gods, to act as arbiter in this severe state of affairs.

 

The God-king & the Grain Goddess arrived without delay. When the God-king asked Greg with who he most wanted to live,

Greg replied, “with my husband, the lord of the underworld.” The Grain Goddess wept &

threatened to starve the people of the earth if she could not have her child.

 

Greg, angered that his mother would endanger the lives of so many who had no part in the affairs of gods,

rebuked his mother before all the dead. “You bring shame to yourself, and shame to your family,

if you would punish the innocent for your own twisted love.”

 

The Grain Goddess subsided in her rage. “I only wish to treasure you, my most beloved child.”

Greg softened, & held his mother. “I have known love, mother.” The Grain Goddess shook her head.

“But the Lord of the Dead is a cold man. How can he know love? He has tricked you.”

 

Mycroft presented a pomegranate, a bite missing from its side. “Dear Lady,

you know if Greg eats twelve pomegranate seeds, he must remain in the Underworld for all the year.

But, because I know that Love cannot live inside a cage, I have made sure he ate no more than six.”

 

"I should have not let him eat any, but I am weak and selfish when I behold your Gregorios."

 

Greg blushed, because he had agreed to eat six and six only, but in his heart he’d wished to eat the whole of it.

Yet, there was wisdom in his lord’s words, because Greg knew one day he would wake to miss the sunshine and the flowers.

 

The God-king spoke to Greg: “Do not judge too harshly. Your mother has endured many hardships,

and a mother’s love for her child is not always an easy thing to bear.” Greg softened further,

wondering if perhaps his mother was compensating for past faults and losses.

 

“Mother, I will live with Mycroft for half the year, & for the other half, I will live above,

but not always in your gardens. I wish to see the world, and I wish to know you better. I wish for you to act as my guide.”

The Grain Goddess wiped her tears and touched her son’s face.

 

“I will go with you now so that the famine may end. And when it’s time, I will return to my husband’s side.”

Greg held out his hand to god he loved. Mycroft took it, and kissed his knuckles,

his face glowing with deep affection for the youth standing before him.

 

So it was and ever after, that Spring heralds the arrival of Gergorios to his mother’s gardens,

though they are no longer the cage they once were.

Autumn signals the return of Gregorios to his lord, to spend chilly nights blanketed in the warmth of their love.

[ ~~#~~ **fin** ](https://twitter.com/hashtag/fin?src=hash)

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy mythology and magical realism, you may enjoy my story [The Tenth Muse](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17593490/chapters/41470481).
> 
> A thousand thank yous to the Mystrade Fam for their support, their warmth, and their humor. <3


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